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The car trundled along the country road, eventually stopping at a fence bordering a luscious green field.
You opened the door and stepped out onto the road, bright yellow heels clacking against the pavement.
“Sir,” a level voice spoke. The chauffeur that had brought you here was looking at Giorno.
“Oh! Just take our things to the house. We’ll be back soon,” he ordered, to which the chauffeur nodded.
“Of course, sir.” Giorno stepped out next to you on the road, the wind tugging at his bright golden blond hair still tightly intertwined in a braid.
The car pulled away, turning onto the dirt path that led up to the gorgeous country house standing amidst the greenery.
It was much more colorful than you had thought it would be. When Giorno told you that he wanted to take you to a vineyard for a little excursion to celebrate your birthday, you were a bit skeptical. After all, you weren’t a heavy drinker, and certainly not a wine connoisseur. But after much insistence on his end that it would be a fun trip, you gave in. You trusted Giorno with your life and your heart. As Don of Passione, he had saved your life multiple times from assassination attempts, as well as on missions. And after two years of marriage, preceded by two-and-a-half years of courtship and five years of friendship, you could officially say that this man had you hooked entirely.
Turning to him, you inquired, “So, Gio? What are we gonna do first?”
“I really wanted to show you the orchards first. I know that the vineyard is typically the main attraction, but they sell other kinds of fruit here as well.”
“Really? Well, I’d be delighted to go look at them with you.” Reaching for his hand, you intertwined your fingers with his and set off, him leading the way to the orchards.
***
It was like an entirely different world. Countless trees rose up to touch the sky on either side of you, branches sagging with the weight of vibrant fruit. The grass sank beneath your feet as you walked.
“Wow,” you said, glancing around at the various trees. “I didn’t know there were that many varieties of apples.”
“Amazing, right? How nature creates these minuscule differences that add up and result in an entirely different product?” Giorno mused, squeezing your hand as you both strolled between the trees.
Humming lightly to himself, you snuck a sidelong glance at him. He was almost glowing, ethereal, an angel come down from heaven to bless you on Earth. His sparkling green eyes took in the sights around you two, drinking in the wonders of the outdoors. His sharp black suit stood out against the vivid landscape, a heart-shaped window cut in the chest as a reminder of his teenage years, those humble origins that gave rise to the current Don of Passione. Despite being twenty-five, your husband still had a penchant for the flamboyant, as demonstrated by the gold collar and glittering outline around the heart. He also kept several ladybug brooches on his body in times of crisis (he had explained the usefulness of them to you, detailing the versatile things he could create with them using his stand).
“What are you looking at, tesoro?” he mused.
“Hmm?” you asked, still gazing at his hair, the loose strands dangling by his cheekbones.
“Why are you staring so hard at me?” You noticed the corner of his mouth quirking up a bit, a strange habit he had whenever he was about to tease someone. In this situation, and in many others, you were the target of his jests. “I’m not a mirror, you know.”
“Flirt.” You elbowed him, rolling your eyes at his remark. Stepping closer to you, he placed both of his hands on your shoulders, stopping you in your tracks. Then, his eyes lit up with renewed enthusiasm. “Oh, I know the perfect place to show you, cara!”
Raising an eyebrow, you watched as he laughed at your perplexed expression. “Just follow me!” he exclaimed with glee, grabbing your hand and tugging you along the rows of trees.
Rarely did anyone get to see the mafia boss of one of the biggest crime organizations in Italy act like an eager five year old. It was a treat to watch the normally stoic and serious man transform into an elated boy, still befitting of his age (being in his mid-twenties).
Heart pounding in your chest, you allowed yourself to be pulled along by your husband, admiring how happy he was.
Snap! Suddenly, you tripped, tumbling onto the thankfully soft grass. Your hand slipped out of Giorno’s grip, and you landed on one knee, catching yourself with your right hand.
“Are you okay?” Giorno crouched down, examining your scuffed knee and flexing your hand.
“Yes, thankfully,” you replied, glaring at your shoes that had conveniently decided to break after one too many steps in the grass.
“Stupid stilettos can’t even handle a bit of plants and dirt,” you mumbled, reaching over to pull them off.
“Ah-ah-ah! I’ll do it for you,” your husband said, shooing your hands away from your feet as he undid the straps and gently slid them off.
“Here.” He proffered the shoes to you. Taking them, you marveled at what in the world he was about to do, having bent down to where you were sitting on the grass. And your answer came quickly when he picked you up in his arms bridal-style.
“This’ll be quicker, amore. I don’t want you to walk right now. Please, just hang on tight to me.” Offering you a brilliant smile, he began walking once again, this time with you wrapping one arm around his neck and holding your high heels in the other.
Before long, he had taken you into another part of the vineyard. Trees still dotted the area, but notably contained bright orange and yellow fruit hanging from their branches.
“Whoa! Are those lemons and oranges, Gio?” you asked as he gently set you down in the middle of the trees.
“Hmm… why don’t you try one and find out?” he said mischievously, reaching towards one of the lower branches nearby and plucking an orange off.
“Wait! Are you sure you can do that?” you asked, alarmed by his sudden action.
“Oh, cara, I don’t know if I’ve told you before, but this is one of my private estates.” He held up the orange, examining it thoughtfully. “I own several vineyards and orchards across Italy. I can sell the fruits and wine for a profit, and of course it adds to the money lost from the halt in the drug trade.”
He flinched as you hit his shoulder. “You kept this from your wife?!”
“Well… if I hadn’t kept it a secret, then you would have known about this place long before I posed the idea to you.”
Sighing, you brushed some of the stray hairs out of his face. “I guess you have a point, Gio.”
“Here.” Placing the fruit in your hand, he explained, “Let me make it up to you. Try this orange and tell me how it is.”
Huffing at your husband’s antics, you begrudgingly started peeling the orange. The skin gradually fell away and a beautiful saffron color emerged.
Hesitantly, you bit into the orange. A sweet tangy flavor immediately exploded in your mouth. The texture was squishy with a little bit of pulp, dissolving in your mouth as the citrus scent flooded your senses.
“Mmm,” you hummed, before noticing that the juice from the fruit had made its way down your chin and onto your hand, racing down your forearm.
You blushed, a bright pink dusting on your cheeks. You could only imagine how terrible you looked right now.
That’s when Giorno pulled out a nondescript handkerchief from his pocket. “Ah, tesoro. Let me get that for you.”
Raising your eyebrow at this, he met your knowing look with a smug expression. “Sometimes you need to clean things up on the job.”
At that, he began wiping the orange juice trailing down your chin. Giorno leaned in closer, cupping your face and holding it in place as he continued his job.
Despite the fact that he had explored countless facets of your body, his close proximity still managed to make you blush and feel like a young schoolgirl in love all over again.
He ceased cleaning your face. “Huh?” you stuttered, looking up. You were met with his startling emerald eyes, gazing lovingly at you. And then he leaned in, closing the gap between you and him.
Giorno’s lips captured yours in a heated, fervid, almost feverish kiss. You felt his hands wrap around the back of your head, pulling you into him further.
Reciprocating the intensity of the kiss, you nearly gasped as you felt his tongue against your lips, traveling at a painfully slow pace along the length of your bottom lip. He hummed contentedly, his tongue collecting the juice that remained on your lips.
You reached around his shoulders and began to undo the elaborate braid, letting his hair fall down in a curtain of gold. Twirling his long hair around your fingers, you continued to meld your lips against his, cherishing the physical touch sending sparks shooting throughout your body.
Then Giorno suddenly stopped, pulling away to take in your flushed face. Without warning, he grabbed one of your wrists and brought his mouth to your forearms, starting at the bottom near your elbow and dragging his tongue along your skin until he reached your hands. He was cleaning up the orange juice that had dripped down your arm when you had bitten into the fruit.
The wet sensation of Giorno’s tongue caused you to blush even harder, all the while a familiar sensation was building in your lower stomach. As he made his way up your arm, a low moan escaped his lips.
He stopped at your hand, slowly lifting his mouth away from your skin. Looking up at your blissful expression, he smirked and licked his lips.
“Delicious.” You took in his eyes twinkling with mischief and desire.
“Shut up and kiss me again,” you said, reaching for his face and once again bringing your lips to his. Breathing in his familiar scent, reminiscent of lemongrass and jasmine, you entwined your fingers in his hair, this time slightly pulling it taut so as to move his head at an angle. This allowed you better access to his lips, and you found yourself biting his lip back lightly, before slipping your own tongue in his mouth.
He kissed you back with as much ferocity. Grasping at the fine light hairs on the nape of his neck, you managed to elicit a groan from him as you yanked at them.
Giorno whispered against your lips. “If you keep doing that, dolcezza, we might not make it back to the house on time.”
“Can’t allow that now, can we?” you mused, grabbing a fistful of his golden locks and pulling down hard, lifting up his jaw so that you could pepper feather-light kisses along his neck. You could hear him sigh and lean into you more.
Making your way down his neck, you gently placed your index finger on his star-shaped birthmark just above his left shoulder blade.
You pressed down, causing a slight groan to pass his lips. Smirking, you continued your descent down towards his chest. Long ago you had discovered that his birthmark was extremely sensitive, a trademark of his Joestar lineage.
He inhaled sharply as you began to nip and lick at his chest. “Tesoro, do you think this would be better managed at the house?”
Looking up at him through your eyelashes and batting your eyes (sarcastically, of course) you whined, “But Gio, don’t you find it refreshing to be surrounded by nature? I thought you would want to make love in a place so closely intertwined with your stand.”
Slapping your shoulder, he began to laugh. A darker, huskier tone emerged, quite different from the sixteen year old you had first met on the streets of Naples.
“Mia amata, I assure you that while I find this prospect quite tempting, there are still workers out in the fields.” He paused. “It would be a, um, embarrassment , if they found their boss pleasuring his wife out in the orchards.”
Drawing away from your tight clutch on the sides of his suit, he continued. “But, that doesn’t mean we can’t have some fun.”
He reached under your body and picked you up off the ground. You melted into his touch, burying your face in his shoulder, still gripping your stilettos tightly.
As Giorno began to walk back towards the house, his hand slipped under your dress, subtly caressing your inner thigh. You gasped at feeling his fingers toy with the band of your panties.
For the rest of the way there, you squirmed in his hold. He passed the few people in the fields before turning onto the path leading to the country house. You bit your lip. Quivering at Giorno’s touch, you felt like you were about to unwind at any moment. Suppressing a moan, you gripped his arm as he opened the door, stepping over the threshold.
Giorno walked over to the couch, placing you down softly on the plush surface. You whined a bit as he went back to the entrance, sliding off his shoes. Throwing your useless stilettos off to the side, you awaited him.
“Bellissima.” He leaned over you, now on the couch as well. Something carnal erupted in your stomach at his low tone.
“I need you, Giorno,” you whispered, wrapping your arms around him.
“I’m here to please,” he smirked, unbuttoning his suit, revealing his firm toned muscles.
You spent the rest of the day writhing underneath him, both of you loving each other with everything you had.
Once the night had fallen, Giorno held you fiercely in a tight embrace, a thick fleece blanket over your two bare bodies. His even breathing in your ear reassured you of his existence, that this absolute gem of a man was yours. Only yours, for forever. You were truly living la dolce vita.